Another Year Older
by xxThe.Ravenxx
Summary: Ron and Hermione always tried to make each other's birthdays special, giving increasingly exceptional presents by the year. But as they grow older and closer, they realise that the only thing they want is be together.
1. Hermione Granger, Aged 12

**I don't know how far I'll be able to take this, but I'd like to have one chapter for Ron and Hermione each year. Please let me know what you think, so I know whether or not to continue this. Any and all opinions are very welcome.**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

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><p><span>Chapter 1 – Hermione Granger, Aged 12<span>

Hogwarts was everything that Hermione had imagined it would and so much more besides. Everything, from the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall to the four poster bed in her dorm room, was simply magical. She had spent a great deal of her childhood reading books of witches and wizards. She had never dreamed that the stories would come true, but now that they were a reality, Hermione swore never to waste a moment in the wizarding world.

Her favourite place in Hogwarts was undoubtedly the library. At meal times she would wolf down her food and hurry up to the fourth floor. She would walk the red-carpeted floors, looking longingly at the books until she found the one she would tackle next. She consumed the books hungrily, moving swiftly from one to the next, intent on discovering everything she could about her magical haven.

Despite her hunger for knowledge, Hermione was feeling increasingly isolated. None of the Gryffindor boys were particularly keen on making her feel welcome, and the girls had steadily avoided her one by one as well. She was well known as a teacher's pet, a swot and a know-it-all, but Hermione was not about to change her ways for the sake of friendship.

The advantage of having few friends was that it enabled her to spend more time in the library. It became her hideaway, where she could run from the insults, and indulge herself with the written word.

Hermione only truly realised how lonely she was when she sat in the library on the evening of the nineteenth of September, over three weeks after her arrival at Hogwarts. Madam Pince, the stern-faced librarian, was beginning to clear everyone out. She came to Hermione last.

"Come on," Madam Pince said sternly. "The library's shutting now."

Hermione must have let her disappointment show.

The briefest of smiles crossed Madam Pince's sallow face. "I admire your enthusiasm, Miss…"

"Granger." Hermione said. She sighed as she closed the current book she was reading and handed it to Madam Pince.

"I've seen you in here every day since the start of term, Miss Granger. Your thirst for knowledge is truly inspiring. Perhaps you should encourage your friends to join you, that the knowledge may be spread."

Hermione did not want to reply to this. Confessing her true loneliness to a librarian seemed rather pathetic. She simply smiled and gathered her things together.

She walked unhurriedly back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping that the moving staircases would provide their usual welcome distraction. They did nothing to improve her mood today.

She climbed through the portrait of the fat lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. Almost all the chairs were taken. She could only see one that was empty. Unfortunately, this chair was at a table already occupied.

Ronald Weasley, the ginger-haired friend of the famous Harry Potter, was sat alone. He stared downwards at an unfinished essay, resting his head on his hand. As Hermione sat opposite him, she caught a glimpse of the title.

Hermione was unable to hold back a remark. "That homework's supposed to be handed in tomorrow." she said curtly. "You better get a move on."

Ron looked up in surprise. When he found the owner of the voice, he glared. "Oh, it's you."

"I'm only trying to help." Hermione said defensively. "Professor McGonagall won't be pleased if you hand it in late. You'll be in detention, and it's only the third week of term."

"I suppose you've already finished yours." Ron asked with a smirk.

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

Ron grimaced. "It's enough to make you sick."

Hermione felt her throat tightening as a lump rose in her throat. It would have been wise for her to stand down from this argument, but Ron had riled her to a point of no return.

"Do you think that someone being punctual is a bad thing?" she asked sharply.

Ron shrugged.

Hermione huffed.

"Where do you go all night?" Ron asked, dropping his quill, spreading a large blot across his title. "We see you eating dinner, and then you just run off."

Hermione eyed the inky parchment disapprovingly. "I go to the library." she replied aloofly.

Ron laughed. "You need to learn to relax. Why would you wanna go to the library of all places?"

"Don't you like reading?" Hermione asked, unable to comprehend how she would spend her time if she didn't have her books.

Ron pulled a face, looking as if he couldn't imagine anything worse than picking up a book.

Hermione was losing patience. She was ready to give up on today and sink into bed. She stood up with a last look at Ron's homework.

"You spelt Transfiguration wrong!" she snapped before heading to the stairs.

As her foot touched the first step, she heard Ron muttering to himself.

"Bloody show-off."

Hermione hurried upstairs. The girl's dorm was empty, thankfully. Hermione changed into her pyjamas and slipped into bed.

She had celebrated her birthday alone. Even her parent's card and presents that had arrived by owl post that morning did little to ease her nerves. The perfect world of Hogwarts was beginning to crumble. She had seven years still to go ... Would she be able to last without friends?

Lying in her bed, a tear trickling down her cheek, Hermione had no idea that her problems would be solved six weeks later in a girl's bathroom, thanks to a rogue mountain troll.

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><p><strong>Any reviews would be much appreciated :)<strong>


	2. Ron Weasley, Aged 12

**All comments and criticisms are very very welcome :) If I know what people think, I know that I'm writing the right sort of thing.**

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><p><span>Chapter 2 – Ron Weasley, aged 12<span>

Ron had never been more grateful to have his birthday on a Sunday. With no lessons, he was free to enjoy the day. He had the perfect day planned, and he had every intention of forgetting about his homework, in order to make the day as good as possible.

When he awoke, he got straight down to business, focussing his attention on the pile of presents at the foot of his bed. By the time Harry awakened in the bed next to him, Ron had worked his way through all the gifts.

"Happy birthday, mate." Harry said, rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses on.

"Cheers." Ron said brightly as he inspected a pair of orange gloves from Fred and George. You could never be too careful with a present from brothers, especially when your brothers were Fred and George.

"Here you go!" Harry said, tossing Ron a package.

Ron tore into it. A large back of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans fell out onto his lap.

"Great!" he said, instantly opening them and putting one in his mouth. "Urgh," He quickly spat the sweet straight out. "Soap."

He offered the pack to Harry, who had much better luck with a chocolate-flavoured one.

They sat back on their beds, gradually making their way through the packet, awaiting the promised arrival of Hermione. The packet was half empty by the time she arrived.

"Happy birthday, Ron." she said, peering around the corner of the doorframe. She was wearing a light blue dressing gown, and her hair was even bushier than normal. She had come straight from bed to see him, that was clear.

Ron grinned. "Come in. Dean, Seamus and Neville are downstairs already."

Hermione crossed the room, her bare feet padding across the wooden floor. She perched awkwardly on Ron's bed. She extended her gift with a smile.

Ron quickly dropped Harry's present, taking Hermione's and unwrapping it. He found another bag of Every Flavour Beans.

Hermione grimaced, looking at Harry putting another bean in his mouth. "I'm sorry, Ron, it's not very original."

Ron shrugged. "When have I ever complained about food?"

Hermione seemed instantly more cheerful. She picked up the Chuddly Cannons woolly hat that Ron had received from his parents. She played with the bobble.

"This is nice." she said conversationally.

Ron shook his head. "Can you get rid of the bobble? It's not very manly."

Hermione looked despairingly at Harry. "What's the magic word?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

"Please." Ron grunted with a great effort.

Hermione shook her head wearily. She pointed her wand at the hat and said, "Diffindo."

The bobble popped away from the hat. Ron examined her work, and when he was content he put the hat straight on. He ate another sweet, tasting of coffee, before offering Hermione one.

She took one with an awkward smile. She began to look around the boy's dorm as she chewed.

"I hope you're going to write that Charms essay today." Hermione said once she had swallowed.

"It's my birthday!" Ron said indignantly. He had suspected Hermione would try and interfere with his grand birthday plans, but he had not imagined she would try and do so at this time in the morning.

"Yes, but the essays due in tomorrow. Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you two. Do you ever do your homework in time?"

"No." Harry said, helping himself to a bean. "We dunno how you can manage."

Hermione clicked her tongue. "It's not that hard."

"I'm not working today." Ron said firmly as he pulled on his new gloves. Mercifully, they were harmless.

"Fine." Hermione snapped. "But don't come running to me when you wind up in detention."

"Couldn't you write my essay? It is my birthday after all."

Hermione glared in response. "How do you expect to learn if you don't do your homework?"

Ron looked to Harry incredulously. Harry shrugged.

"Alright, keep your hair on." Ron said, turning back to an incensed Hermione, speaking before she could. "It was only an idea."

"Keep your ideas to yourself next time."

Harry laughed. "She's probably right."

Ron was about to protest until he saw Hermione smiling as well.

"Alright, I know when I'm beaten." He laughed taking a handful of beans at once. Their flavours were indistinct in the concoction he had made. "Hey, when's your birthday, Hermione."

Ron should have realised that this was dangerous territory when Hermione failed to reprimand him for speaking with a full mouth.

"It doesn't matter." Hermione said, flushing slightly.

"Of course it does." Harry insisted. "When is it?"

"You've missed it."

"When was it?" Ron asked. His tongue was beginning to burn; somewhere in his Every Flavour Bean cocktail had been a chilli one.

"It was ages ago now." Hermione said quickly, turning a darker shade of pink by the second.

"Just tell us!" Harry said impatiently.

"It was in September."

"Oh." Ron said dumbly. Every time one of the three had mentioned the months prior to the Halloween night they had become friends, Hermione would have fallen silent. They had learnt not to mention how cruel they had been and how lonely Hermione had appeared.

"So you spent your birthday alone?" Harry asked, causing guilt to spread through Ron's body like an icy shudder, making even the burning chilli numb.

"It's alright." Hermione said, playing carelessly with the hat's bobble she still held. "I don't mind. You weren't to know it was my birthday."

"We'll make it up to you next year." Ron said firmly. "We'll have a massive party and everything. We'll get my mum to make you a cake."

"Yeah, and we'll get Hagrid to decorate it." Harry agreed.

"Yeah, and I bet Fred and George could get hold of some Butterbeer."

Hermione evidently disapproved of the mention of clandestine alcohol smuggling, so Ron quickly moved on.

"You can nag us all day long if you want." he added. "We might even do our homework without you having to remind us."

Hermione seemed genuinely pleased by this, although her slight frown suggested she was still not happy with the thought of being caught by Professor McGonagall with a pint of beer in her hand.

"Thank you." she said warmly.

"Why don't we head down to the common room?" Harry suggested. "I'll beat you at chess, Ron."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Harry, mate, you don't stand a chance."

Hermione left the boys and headed upstairs to change. Ron got dressed, thinking what it must be like to have no one notice it was your birthday. Harry and Hermione must have experienced this, and it was a rather unpleasant thought. Ron had every intention of getting Harry a great birthday present. Maybe he would invite him to stay at the Burrow. Ron's home wasn't much, but he was sure that Harry would prefer it to the muggle house of Dursleys.

While Ron felt bad for Harry, he felt even worse for Hermione. Harry's last birthday had been a wonderful one, in which he had first discovered he was a wizard. Hermione's birthday must have been awful with all the insults he had thrown her way. He swore that from now on, every birthday Hermione had would be a special one.

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><p><strong>All comments and criticisms are very very welcome :) If I know what people think, I know that I'm writing the right sort of thing.<strong>


	3. Hermione Granger, Aged 13

**Any thoughts, comments and criticism would be greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think so far.**

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><p><span>Chapter 3 – Hermione Granger, Aged 13 <span>

When Hermione woke on the morning of her thirteenth birthday, she smiled, knowing that this birthday would be a million times better than the last. After opening her parent's presents, amidst the chattering and congratulations of the Gryffindor girls, she went downstairs to the common room to see Ron sat by the fire in one of the armchairs. Hermione went to sit in the chair next to him.

Ron instantly held out a parcel that was wrapped in pink paper and decorated with an orange bow.

"I remembered!" he said brightly. "Happy birthday."

She took the present. "Thanks, Ron."

"Harry's still asleep." Ron said as Hermione began to tear apart the wrapping. "I didn't want to wake him."

Hermione pulled back the last of the paper to see a leather-bound book, titled _Curses and Counter Curses_. She beamed gratefully at Ron's slightly pink face.

"Thanks, Ron."

"I wanted to get you something good," he said awkwardly. "To make up for last year."

"This looks great!" Hermione said, opening the book, relishing the gentle creak of the spine. She was still smiling uncontrollably.

"I thought you could try some out on Malfoy." Ron said, having grown even redder in the face from Hermione's approval. "You could get him back for what he said."

Hermione looked disapprovingly at Ron. "I'd rather avoid detention this year, thank you, Ronald.

"Someone has to teach him a lesson!"

"It won't be us. Imagine the trouble we would be in if we cursed Malfoy." Hermione said sternly. "If you're so determined to get revenge, tell McGonagall what he said."

"I'm no snitch!" Ron said indignantly.

"Then Malfoy will have to go unpunished."

Ron looked dejectedly into the glowing fire, scowling intently.

"It meant a lot to me." Hermione said suddenly, startling both herself and Ron. "No one's ever stood up for me like that before."

Ron shrugged. "We're friends." he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

To avoid the discomfort that hung between them, Hermione dropped her gaze to the first page of her book. Her eyes moved across the page but barely even registered the words she read.

"I suppose I'm lucky I didn't hit Malfoy." Ron said, his tone returning almost entirely to normal. "Imagine what my mum would've said once she found out."

"I still can't believe you were in trouble before you even arrived." Hermione said quickly, eager to put her previous statement behind her. "When I wrote to my parents and told them what you did, they said you and Harry were bad influences. They even said I should find new friends."

Ron looked offended. "You wrote to your parents about me?"

"You stole a flying car! I had to tell them."

"I didn't steal it, I borrowed it!" Ron snapped. "And next time you write to your parents, I want to be consulted."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Boys could be so sensitive sometimes. She turned her attention back to her book, grimacing at the image next to the words 'Bat-Bogey Hex'.

"I'm surprised Lockhart didn't send his favourite pupil a birthday present." Ron said coldly.

Hermione smiled. "Do you really think I'm his favourite?"

"Of course you are! You're the only one who got all the questions right on that stupid quiz we did."

Hermione was practically glowing with pride. There was no denying Gilderoy Lockhart was brilliant wizard, but it was not his magical capability that made him stand out. Hermione was finding it increasingly difficult to deny that she was experiencing the foundations of a crush on her teacher.

"If you had actually read the books that we're supposed to, you would have got full marks as well." she said, turning back to her reading with a disdainful look.

Ron frowned, once again making it evident that cleverness was not a good thing.

"Why would I want to do that? I'm not in love with Lockhart."

"Neither am I!" Hermione retorted.

Ron laughed. "Yes you are! I can't see why, he's a prat!"

"He's a wonderful teacher!"

"He can't even handle a couple of pixies!"

Hermione couldn't argue. Lockhart's apparent inability to deal with even the most basic of magical creatures had made her question his talents, but she was certain she would stumble upon a very plausible explanation one day.

She was saved the effort of conjuring a retort by Harry coming downstairs. He looked bleary-eyed as he passed Hermione two presents and said happy birthday.

Noting that Ron seemed somewhat disheartened by the number of presents Harry had given, she opened a packet of Droobel's Best Blowing Gum and a box of Chocolate Frogs.

"Thanks, Harry." she said, now eyeing the bags under Harry's eyes. "You haven't been hearing any more voices, have you?" she asked stringently.

"No." Harry grumbled, settling into the armchair closest to the fire. "Stop worrying."

Hermione was not convinced but began to open the Chocolate Frogs, passing one to each of the boys.

Ron had finished his chocolate within an instant and turned to Harry, speaking with a full mouth, discussing the importance of winning the upcoming Quidditch match as a means of revenge against Malfoy.

Hermione let her mind wander as the boy's conversation continued. Her thirteenth birthday was shaping up to be her best. It was not due to the presents or the excitement of becoming a teenager, but because of the friends she now possessed. Ron's attack on Malfoy was spread through the school with ridicule and laughter. However, for Hermione, it meant more than she would ever admit.

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><p><strong>Any thoughts, comments and criticism would be greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think so far.<strong>


	4. Ron Weasley, Aged 13

Chapter 4 – Ron Weasley, Aged 13

Ron and Harry made their way down to breakfast in the Great Hall, talking animatedly about ways in which the bag of Dungbombs, given to Ron by Fred and George, could best be utilised. They sat opposite Hermione, debating whether Snape or Malfoy would be a better target.

"Happy birthday." Hermione said, picking up her bag and beginning to rummage through it. "New jumper?"

"Yeah." Ron replied, helping himself to a plateful of sausages and bacon. The new red jumper had come from his mum and dad, and was emblazoned with an indiscriminate Quidditch Player reaching for a snitch.

"Here you go." Hermione extended a parcel, which Ron took only after eating a large forkful of meat.

A box of sugar quills was revealed and a card fell into his lap.

"Cheers, Hermione."

"I thought they might encourage you to do your homework." she said pointedly. "Perhaps then I won't have to spend all my time reminding you to do it."

Ron did not like the thought of homework so early in the morning, although the idea of less nagging from Hermione seemed a good thing.

"Speaking of homework," Hermione continued. "Did you finish that essay for Snape?"

Ron shrugged. "More or less."

Hermione did not look impressed.

"Okay, no, it isn't finished." Ron looked to Harry in exasperation. "I've only got the conclusion to write, though."

"We've got Potions first thing." Harry said. "You better do it now."

"It's good to see I'm leaving a good impression on one of you." Hermione said, beaming at Harry.

Ron scowled. He shovelled more food into his mouth before digging in his bag and dragging out a crumpled piece of paper.

He flattened it out, readied one of his new quills and waited for inspiration to hit him.

Hermione watched him expectantly as she ate her cereal.

"Life was so much easier when you were in the hospital wing!" Ron snapped bitterly after some time. "I can't work with you staring like that."

Hermione shifted her gaze but looked affronted.

Ron couldn't resist another poke, and he turned his mockery to his favourite topic. "Do you still sleep with Lockhart's card under your pillow?"

"What I sleep with is none of your business." Hermione said indignantly.

Harry laughed, nearly spitting out his mouthful of baked beans. Ron couldn't help but join in.

Hermione tried to look aloof but the corner of her mouth was creeping up in a smile.

"Give me that homework." she said, grabbing Ron's parchment and quill, both startling him and ending his laughter. "You'll never get it done at this rate."

Ron grinned, piling more food onto his already overflowing plate. "I've changed my mind. I'm never letting you out of my sight, Hermione."

"This is a one off." Hermione said, brandishing the sugar quill. "Don't get used to it." She turned back to the essay, shaking her head.

Ron grinned sanctimoniously as he poured a ladle of beans over his sausages. "I'm never badmouthing Lockhart again. At least you're not the only one with a crush, Hermione. I'd give anything to know who sent Harry that valentine message."

Harry frowned. "At least I got a valentine's message." he mumbled.

"Yeah, well, I'm a bachelor, aren't I?" Ron ignored Hermione's incredulous gaze. "Women tie you down, mate."

"If you say so." Harry said noncommittally, turning his head as the doors of the Great Hall opened.

Ron followed his gaze to see Ernie Macmillan entering, looking at Harry darkly before hurrying over to the Hufflepuffs' table.

"He hasn't been the same since Justin was petrified." Hermione said thoughtfully. "They were close friends, weren't they?"

"Serves him right for thinking Harry's the heir." Ron grunted.

Hermione did not take her eyes of Ernie, not even to give Ron the reprimand he had expected. There was a look in her eyes that was hard to place. Was it anxiety? Ron stared at her in concern, not for the first time remembering Hermione's vulnerability as a muggle-born.

"You're not scared, are you?" Ron asked.

Hermione tore her eyes from Ernie. "What?"

"Are you scared?"

Hermione looked between the two boys, shrugging but shaking her head.

Ron and Harry shared a glance, in which they both deemed it wise to not press further.

Hermione had hastily turned back to Ron's essay and was scribbling a passable imitation of Ron's handwriting. Ron continued his breakfast, unable to think of a change in conversation. There was silence between the three until Hermione handed Ron his now completed essay.

"I'll see you at Potions." she mumbled, grabbing her bag and hurrying out of the Great Hall.

Ron glanced down at the essay, running his eyes over Hermione's additions, before looking to Harry. "She's not scared, is she?"

Harry sighed, turning his attention to his scrambled eggs.

"Nah," Ron said, answering his own question in his desperation for assurance. "Hermione could take on Slytherin's monster with her eyes closed."

Harry's silence did nothing for Ron's apprehension. The two boys headed for the dungeons, neither one of them talking, and Ron was unable to prevent himself imagining Hermione, cold and lifeless, petrified by the mysterious muggle-born attacker. Whatever this monster was, Ron wanted it gone, preferably before it was too late.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think of this chapter or the story so far in a review. :)<strong>


	5. Hermione Granger, Aged 14

Chapter 5 – Hermione Granger, Aged 14

Hermione would have liked nothing more than to lie in on her birthday, however, she was swamped with homework. She had resigned herself to the fact that sleep would become a rarity while she was taking so many subjects. It was only the fourth week of term, and she was only just managing to keep on top of things. To make matters worse, using time travel to fit in more lessons meant there were so many more hours in her day and sleep was even more necessary than usual.

When Hermione walked down from the girl's dormitory to the common room, she was proceeded by her new cat, Crookshanks. He scurried down the stairs, his bushy tail waving behind him, and proceeded to search all corners of the room. Ron, who had been sat opposite Harry playing chess, jumped up at the sight of Crookshanks, clutching Scabbers to his chest.

"Tough luck!" he said crossly to Crookshanks, almost treading on his tail as he stomped over to the stairs. "I'm putting Scabbers upstairs where you can't get him! Oh, and happy birthday, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry as she sat on the sofa, wondering how long it would take Ron to realise that cats and rats simply did not get along. On the table in front of her was a small cluster of presents.

"Happy birthday." Harry said brightly. "The top present's from me."

Hermione yawned as she reached over to open it. Tearing apart the wrapping revealed a book, entitled _Pet Care for the Busy Witch and Wizard._

"Thanks, Harry." she said, setting aside the book. _S_he must have been more tired than she thought; she could not remember ever receiving a book and not wanting to plunge straight into it.

Ron had returned from the dormitory and slouched down in his original spot, glancing at Harry's present.

"Maybe that book will show you how to train that animal." he mumbled darkly.

"You can't train a cat to ignore his natural instincts." Hermione snapped, sounding more waspish than she intended.

Ron scowled, but only for the briefest moment. He grinned and said, "Knight to F3."

Ron's white knight moved forward and began to smash Harry's bishop to pieces. Hermione was grateful Ron hadn't rise to the bait; she had little energy left for argument.

"Are these your presents, Ron?"

Ron's eyes were scanning the chess board, searching for his next move. "Yeah, they're from me."

Hermione opened the first package, letting a small furry rat fall out onto her lap. She examined it before looking expectantly at Ron.

It took a few minutes for Ron to notice her stare. "It's for Crookshanks." he explained. "So he's got another target to maim. If he's got that toy, he won't need to attack Scabbers, will he?"

Hermione could not deny she was impressed by Ron's devotion to such an old, scrawny rat.

Ron's second present turned out to be large box of chocolate cauldrons.

"Thanks." she said to the two boys. Crookshanks jumped onto her lap and she stroked him absentmindedly. Her mind wandered upstairs to the pile of homework she had to tackle for tomorrow.

"We were gonna head down to Hagrid's after lunch." Harry said. "He said he had a present for you."

"I don't think I'll have the time." Hermione said, now offering Crookshanks a sniff of the stuffed rat. He did not seem impressed.

"You were doing homework all day yesterday." Ron said in disbelief, pausing to command his rook to move. "Have you got more?"

Hermione nodded wearily.

Harry laughed. "There's a first. Ron's done all his homework and Hermione hasn't!"

Hermione smiled weakly.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Harry said to Ron.

Ron nodded, but he was not looking at Harry. He stared at Hermione suspiciously as if he thought staring long enough would lead to her spilling her big secret. Hermione did her best to ignore him.

"It's your move." Harry prompted.

Ron reluctantly turned his attention back to the chess game and said, "Queen to E3."

"Bishop to E5."

Ron laughed. "Queen to C7. Checkmate."

Now the game was finished, Ron turned to Hermione. Mercifully his stare seemed innocent this time. "Fancy a game, Hermione?"

"I should really start my homework." she replied reluctantly.

Ron grimaced. "Homework at nine o'clock?"

"I suppose I could wait another half an hour."

"You work too hard, you know?" Ron said, setting up another chess game. "You need to relax."

Hermione abandoned her attempts to tempt Crookshanks with the stuffed mouse. It was evident he didn't want anything to do with it. She gently moved him off her lap to switch places with Harry.

"White moves first." Ron said. "Pawn to A4."

"We both know you're going to beat me." Hermione said unenthusiastically. "What's the point?"

"I'll go easy on you." Ron said playfully. "It is your birthday after all."

Hermione shook her head resignedly. "Fine." she forced a smile, not wanting to hurt Ron's feelings. He was obviously putting some effort into cheering her up, and she didn't want to rebuke his attempts. "Pawn to E6."

The match was over and done with in fewer than ten moves. Despite Ron going easy on Hermione, it became increasingly evident that he was sensing her urge to get on with her work, no matter how well she tried to keep it hidden. As he gave his queen the killing command, he smiled gently.

"Go on." he said. "Go and get your work done."

Hermione was surprised by his tone at first. He sounded genuinely concerned, and, to make matters more perplexing, she couldn't remember him ever wearing such a kind smile. She stood up, unable to keep the confusion out of her gaze. Ron evidently sensed something was wrong. He flushed and looked down to his lap.

Hermione hurried over to the stairs, heading up to the girl's dormitory with a blush rising in her own cheeks.

She set up her homework on her bed and sat down with her new birthday quill ready, but she could only think of Ron downstairs. She had no idea Ron could read her that well, and it left her feeling rather vulnerable. Perhaps if she had enjoyed a full night's sleep in the last week, such a small issue wouldn't be bothering her, but there was something discomforting in the idea that Ronald Weasley, one of the most immature, insensitive boys in Hogwarts, could see right through her.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading and any reviews would be very welcome :)<strong>


	6. Ron Weasley, Aged 14

Chapter 6 - Ron Weasley, Aged 14

Harry had headed up for bed early on the night of Ron's fourteenth birthday. Ron was ploughing his way through a Charms essay while Hermione was curled up in an armchair with Crookshanks nestling in her lap. Ron had been so engrossed in his work and so determined to get it done, that he had not noticed Hermione fall asleep. It was only when he sat back contentedly, having just finished his conclusion, that he noticed her deep breathing and closed eyes. The Ancient Runes textbook she had been reading had fallen shut in her hands.

He also noticed the pendant at the end of a golden chain hanging out from her robes. Ron had seen Hermione wearing the necklace all year but had never seen it up-close.

Careful to make no noise, Ron stood up and crept over to Hermione. He waved a hand in front of her eyes to make absolutely certain she was sleeping. When she made no movement, Ron gently lifted the necklace, letting the hourglass locket rest on his palm. He peered closer, intending to turn the tiny dial on the side, but he was pushed backwards by a furious Hermione.

Crookshanks yowled at the disturbance and scurried away while Ron stumbled backwards, his knees hitting the pile of books that Hermione had stacked beside her. With flailing arms, he fell backwards, hitting his head against the hard stone of the common room fireplace. He groaned, clutching the back of his head, as he glowered in Hermione's direction.

"What did you do that for?" he asked crossly.

"I woke up, and all I could see was your face!" Hermione said, breathing heavily. "What on earth were you doing?"

Ron grimaced as his head began to throb. "I wasn't doing anything." he said huffily.

"Don't lie to me!"

Ron sat up, repeatedly checking for blood that wasn't there. If there had been blood, he could have used guilt to get Hermione to forget her interrogation.

"I was looking at the necklace." he said once he had decided that Hermione was not going to let his action slide.

Hermione gasped slightly. Her hand flew to her chest, scrabbling for the necklace, and tucked it back beneath her robes.

"Do you know what it is?" she asked nervously.

Ron frowned. "It's a necklace. I didn't hit my head _that_ hard."

Hermione breathed a grateful sigh, falling back to sit in the armchair once more.

"Where did you get it?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"My parents got me it for my birthday." Hermione replied quickly.

Ron shook his head. "You've had that necklace on ever since we were back at Hogwarts. You had it before your birthday."

"It was a gift from my parents." Hermione snapped, evidently cross at Ron's perceptiveness.

"Stop lying!" Ron was getting angry himself. Why wouldn't Hermione just be honest with him? What was she trying to hide?

"I can't tell you what it is, okay, it's a secret."

"Did Harry get you it?"

Ron's stomach was churning as he spoke. He wasn't able to explain the feelings of jealousy coursing through his blood, nor was he able to control them. Why would it matter that Harry could have bought Hermione such an expensive-looking piece of jewellery?

Hermione was staring at him in concern. "What makes you say that?" she asked quietly.

Blushing, Ron replied in an embarrassed mumble. "Well, he's rich, isn't he? That necklace is gold. It must have cost a lot. You only had the necklace once you arrived at Hogwarts, so someone here must have given you it, and don't bother trying to tell me otherwise."

Hermione now seemed visibly impressed with his deductions, which Ron was undeniably proud of.

It was a few moments later when Hermione decided to reply, speaking gently, as if reassuring a child.

"Harry didn't buy me this necklace. I wish I could tell you who bought it and what it is, but I can't."

Ron got to his feet, although his head was spinning, and sat down back in his armchair. He rubbed the back of his head.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked nervously.

Ron was uncertain whether she was referring to the pain in his head or the insecurities he had about the necklace. He answered both questions with one lie.

"Yeah."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep." Hermione said, leaning over to pick up her book that had been thrown aside as she had woken. "I was going to finish this chapter before bed." She flicked through the pages until she found her original spot. "You can go to bed if you want. I don't think this is really how you want to spend your birthday."

Ron shrugged. "I'm alright here."

"How're your socks by the way?"

Ron rested his feet on the table in front of him, displaying the pair of brilliant red socks adorned with dragons that Hermione had given him for Christmas.

"They're comfy." Ron said. Only to fill the awkward silence between them, he added, "They're very warm."

"Seriously, Ron, you can go to bed."

"Someone's gotta make sure you don't stay up all night working." Ron offered a smile, which Hermione returned gratefully.

"You really need to take it easy, Hermione." Ron continued, pausing to take a deep breath and clear his throat. "Me and Harry … we're worried about you. We know you're not sleeping. When we came down to breakfast this morning, you were in the same place you had been when we'd left you the night before. Why don't you drop a subject? Drop Muggle studies! Drop Divination!"

Hermione looked somewhat discomforted but replied determinedly.

"I don't want to drop anything. It seems such a waste of all the work I've done so far."

"Don't sacrifice yourself for school. It's that not that important."

"It may not be important to you!" Hermione retorted. "But what would Professor McGonagall say? What would my parents say?"

"They'd understand." Ron said firmly. "Hermione, we all know that you're the smartest girl in the year, the smartest girl in the school. You don't need to prove it."

"I'm not trying to prove anything!"

"Then why are you killing yourself with work?"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue further but shut it again instantly.

"I don't wanna fall out over this." Ron said, dropping his tone. "We've fought enough this year. But, please, Hermione, listen to me. Take things easy."

He stood up and crossed the room. His head was no longer spinning but the pain had not fully died. He hesitated on the first step up to the boy's dorm. He turned to see Hermione twisted in the chair to watch him.

"The necklace suits you, by the way." he said, aware that his ears were turning red in embarrassment. "I've been meaning to tell you since the start of the year."

Ron was hurrying up the stairs before Hermione had the chance to reply. His discomfort did not stem until he was changed into his pyjamas and was beneath the covers of his bed. But despite his embarrassment having faded, he was left with the bewilderment that he had actually managed to offer Hermione a compliment.

As for what had inspired the compliment, Ron couldn't begin to fathom. Perhaps he was a braver man than he had thought. Ron forced Hermione from his head, shut his eyes, and desperately tried to sink into a dream where everything was simple.

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><p><strong>As usual, any reviews would be very welcome. So share your thoughts :)<strong>


	7. Hermione Granger, Aged 15

Chapter 7 – Hermione Granger, Aged 15

Ron and Hermione were walking from the dungeons to dinner on the afternoon of Hermione's fifteenth birthday together. Harry, after Potions, had said he would hurry to the bathroom before eating and that they should go ahead without him.

For the last few minutes, Ron had been audibly muttering the ways in which he could sneak his way into the Triwizard Tournament. Up until his last suggestion, which involved using the Imperius curse that they had been spending the last few Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons trying to resist, Hermione had remained silent.

"I don't know why you and Harry are so enthused by this Tournament." she said when his rambling became intolerable "Neither of you have the magic to survive it. And don't give me that look," she snapped, glaring at Ron's raised eyebrows. "I don't know enough magic either. If you try and lie your way into the Tournament, not only will you be caught, but you'd be dead by the end of the first task."

"Alright, calm down." Ron said huffily. "I was just having some fun."

"I just can't see why everyone's so determined to enter."

Ron was staring at her as if she had just personally insulted him.

"Don't you get it?" he asked. "If you win the Triwizard Tournament, everyone will know your name. You get glory, Hermione, eternal glory. "

Hermione rolled her eyes as they passed through the Great Hall's doors and sat down at the Gryffindor table opposite each other.

"Don't you want eternal glory?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"No, not really." Hermione replied, dishing out cottage pie for her and Ron.

"Yeah, well, you don't have five older brothers to live up to." Ron said gloomily.

Hermione watched him as he started to eat, amazed that nothing could curb his appetite for food. She had always been concerned by Ron's self-confidence, but she had never felt the need to try and restore it until now. The idea of Ron throwing his life way in order to better the achievements of his brothers was rather chilling.

"You don't have to live up to your brothers." Hermione said, speaking firmly but gently.

"That's alright for you to say. You're smart, Harry's brave, and I'm nothing. I'm just the best friend of the boy who lived." Ron paused to shovel food into his mouth. "That's just the way it is."

"Don't be stupid." Hermione said impatiently, feeling this was not the time to reprimand Ron for speaking with his mouth full. "You have plenty of talents."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Well," Hermione unconsciously hesitated for longer than was kind. "You're really funny."

"Great." Ron moaned sarcastically. "If You-Know-Who ever comes knocking, I can tell him a joke. He might die laughing."

"It's more than jokes. You always cheer me up."

Ron was slightly pink in the cheeks now, and Hermione was suffering from her own embarrassment. She could still offer no explanation as to why she was feeling the need to reassure Ron. She supposed she had come to look upon Ron and Harry in a rather maternal manner, countering their impulsiveness with rationality.

"And don't forget that _you_ were the one who got past McGonagall's chess set. You can be just as brave as Harry when you want to. You faced a forest full of spiders, after all."

Ron seemed heartened by her words. He grinned at her before focussing his attention back on his food.

"Have you tried your new scarf on yet?" Ron asked, taking a break from his meal to drink from his goblet of orange juice.

Hermione shook her head.

"Go on, try it now."

Hermione was puzzled but pulled the scarf that Ron had bought her out of her bag nevertheless. It was made from blue wool, and it was festooned with little ginger cats that would occasionally raise a paw to groom themselves or stand up and walk around. She wrapped it around her neck and awaited Ron's approval.

He smiled. "It suits you."

This was not the first time that Ron had given her a compliment of this nature. This occasion was just as bewildering and fantastic as the last, when Ron had discovered her Timeturner.

"How did you manage to make the cats move?" she asked, unable to keep the pride out of her voice.

"I charmed it." Ron said smugly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows suspiciously.

"Well, alright, I asked Fred and George to do it. But it's the thought that counts, right?"

Hermione nodded, smiling.

Ron was moving onto seconds by the time that Harry arrived and sat next to him.

"Nice scarf." Harry said, spooning cottage pie onto his plate.

Inexplicably, Harry's compliment did not leave as big an impact as Ron's. Hermione distracted herself by playing with her food, prodding the potato with the prongs of her fork.

"You're not still on a hunger strike, are you?" Ron asked after he had finished his second helping of dinner.

Hermione shook her head, and quickly ate a few mouthfuls to prove her point. In the short silence that followed, she could easily predict where Ron would take the conversation next.

"When are you gonna give up on this stupid spew thing?" Ron asked, his words matching Hermione's prediction perfectly. "You know it's pointless, don't you?"

"I'm not going to give up." Hermione said indignantly. "I found a new member today. S.P.E.W will grow, and then you'll be laughing on the other side of your face."

"Who did you threaten this time?" Harry asked, grinning.

"He was a second year," Hermione snapped at Harry, wiping the smile from his face instantly. "And I didn't threaten him."

Ron laughed cruelly "You know people only join to get you to go away, don't you?" he said.

How did Ron possess this incredible aptitude to make her feel wonderful one minute and then awful the next? With one compliment he could turn her whole day around, and with one insult he could cut her where it hurt most.

If Ron sensed her discomfort, he did nothing to abate it.

"I can't blame them." he continued. "Never mind two sickles, I'd give you two galleons to keep quiet about Spew."

When Harry did not laugh, Hermione looked visibly offended and Ron did not receive the response he had expected, he fell silent.

"I was joking, Hermione." Ron said quickly.

Hermione looked down to her cottage pie, but it only made her stomach churn. She stood up, gathering her bag. She mumbled something about an early bedtime and hurried off without a word. Instead of heading to Gryffindor Tower, she headed for the library.

Despite burying her face in her latest piece of Potions homework, all she could think of was Ron. He was infuriating! Everything that she liked – whether it was homework or house-elves – he would stubbornly distance himself from. So why could she hear nothing but his compliment. It was such a simple thing, and she could scarcely believe it had meant so much to her.

She put her greatest efforts into forcing Ron from her mind and starting her homework. Needless to say, it was a difficult task, even harder than forgiving him for his negative words about S.P.E.W. If Ron had meant to get under her skin, he had certainly succeeded.

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><p><strong>Any opinion in a review would make me happy :)<strong>


	8. Ron Weasley, Aged 15

**Hello! Here's the conclusion of year 4. I apologise for the delayed update, and I also apologise in advance for the delay that will no doubt occur with the next chapter.**

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><p>Chapter 8 – Ron Weasley, Aged 15<p>

Ron was sat in the boy's dorm alone, eagerly escaping the continuing conversations about the second Triwizard task. Even now, a week after the task, the speculation and the gossip was still ongoing. The kiss on the cheek from Fleur Delacour had distracted him from his troubles but not for long. Now, once again, he only had thoughts for Hermione and Krum. What qualities did she see in Krum that he didn't have? How serious were they about each other? And how far was this romance going to go?

He was lying awake in bed, the curtains of his four poster closed around him, when he heard Hermione's voice.

"Are you awake?" she asked in whisper.

"Yeah." Ron said, bluntly, wanting to give her no indication that he was pleased to see her.

After a lengthy pause, Hermione spoke again, trying to sound cheerful. "Happy birthday."

Ron ignored her.

Hermione whipped one side of the curtain back, staring down at him. He couldn't decide whether it was sympathy or remorse that shone in her eyes? Regardless of her feelings, she extended a parcel wrapped in brown paper.

"I'm surprised you got me a present." Ron said, sitting up and accepting the parcel with a snide smile. "You've been so busy with Krum, I was beginning to think that you'd forgotten your real friends."

"Of course I haven't forgotten you." Hermione said despairingly. "And I don't spend half as much time with Krum as I could."

"So much for being the person he cares the most about." Ron said brusquely. "For someone who's only known you for a few months, he's certainly taking things fast."

"I don't think I'm the one he cares about most." Hermione mumbled, blushing. "I was probably a more practical choice than bringing someone all the way from Bulgaria."

"They brought Fleur's sister here, didn't they?" Ron said, setting aside his present carelessly. "If she came from France, I'm sure someone could come from Bulgaria."

"Viktor doesn't have the easiest time at home." Hermione snapped defensively. "Being an International Quidditch player can take its toll on family life."

"Poor Vicky." Ron crooned sarcastically. "Is that why you like him? Because he's famous?"

Hermione shook her head. "That's not it at all!"

"Well, I don't know what you see in him. He's Harry's enemy, Hermione, you shouldn't be supporting him!"

"I'm not supporting him! And he's not Harry's enemy, he's Harry's _opponent_."

"He's the enemy! Have you been helping him with the Tournament?"

"No! I want Harry to win just as much as you do."

"Up until the second task, I would have believed you."

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione cried indignantly, frowning in disbelief at him. "Why are you so determined to spoil everything?"

Ron said nothing. He remained as nonchalant as he could.

"You're jealous." Hermione said slowly, peering intently at Ron as if searching for a telltale gap in his guise. "You're jealous because I actually made the most of my Yule Ball date, while you remain alone and lonely. Do us all a favour, Ronald, and get yourself a girlfriend. Maybe then you'll stop complaining."

Hermione came to the end of her tirade, breathing heavily, glowering darkly.

Ron looked ashamedly down to his lap. Perhaps Hermione was right. Perhaps he was jealous, and all the anger and frustration of the last months was due to envy. It seemed a much better and much more plausible explanation than any he had thought of.

"Aren't you going to open your present?" Hermione now spoke in a much softer tone, seemingly having got everything off her chest. Ron was glad when he looked up and saw kindness in her eyes.

Ron hesitated before stubbornly replying, "No."

"I made it for _you_. It's yours whether you open it or not."

It did not take long before curiosity got the best of Ron, and he tore the wrapping off his present. He found the gift to be a red woolly hat that looked remarkably like one of the house-elf hats that Hermione had been making all year. Across the front, printed in somewhat wiggly, uneven lettering was Ron's name.

"Thanks." Ron said, feeling instantly guilty about his rather cutting words. In a desperate need to redeem himself, Ron pulled the hat on.

"It looks good." Hermione said, managing a smile, one that seemed forced.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked gently.

Hermione hesitated, biting her lip. "I hate it when we fall out." she mumbled eventually, looking down to the floor.

"It's a shame we do it so often." Ron said with a weak laugh.

He patted his bed, and Hermione sat down, crossing her legs.

"Viktor isn't going to come between us." Hermione said firmly. "I won't let him."

Smiling sadly, Ron replied, "He already has."

"I'm not going to apologise for going with Viktor to the ball, but I … I feel like I should make things up to you."

Hermione spoke downwards into her lap, her eyes shut and her cheeks pink.

Ron was confused. He had nothing to say, and so he waited with bated breath for Hermione to continue.

"Every day on our birthdays, we have to set aside time to open each other's presents. We have to be alone. Okay?"

Ron hesitated. He wasn't sure what Hermione was hoping to achieve. Surely she could not think that it would put an end to the numerous arguments which they shared. And if she had such a simple motive, why was she so embarrassed about it?

"Okay." he replied at length. "That sounds a good plan."

Hermione nodded her gratitude. She leant forward, kissing Ron's cheek before getting up and hurrying out of the dormitory.

Ron sat still, stunned. She had kissed the spot that had been touched by the lips of Fleur only a week ago. As a shiver ran down his spine, and his face flushed crimson, Ron knew instantly which kiss he had preferred.

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><p><strong>Thoughts on the kiss? Let me know :)<strong>


	9. Hermione Granger, Aged 16

**Apologies for the lack of updates for the past months. What I'm interested in has phases, and I've only recently re-entered a Harry Potter phase. Hopefully this story should be finished before the next change. I went back and gave the old chapters an edit and a polish, and hopefully I'll be updating again soon.**

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><p><span>Chapter 9 - Hermione Granger, Aged 16<span>

Walking into an empty classroom with Ron, Hermione was overwhelmed by the tension that hung between them. She knew this was partly due to this being their first premeditated attempt to be alone. They had spent time together without Harry, of course, but never had they conducted such a private, clandestine meeting.

Furthermore, the kiss that Hermione had given Ron on his last birthday hung heavily over both of them. They had not mentioned it – and Hermione was not sure she ever intended to – but every now and then, something would pass between them as they caught each other's eyes. Hermione was sure that they were both looking back on the memory of that night, and when it did happen, she tried her hardest to think of anything else.

As Hermione sat on a desk opposite Ron, she was unable to catch his eye for that very reason.

"Here's your present." Ron said after a full minute of silence.

He had already told her happy birthday that morning, when she had received a gift of chocolate frogs from Harry. Now it was late evening, Harry was in detention with Umbridge, and Ron was clutching a small parcel wrapped in red paper.

Hermione took the present but did not open it. She had a bone to pick with him, and now seemed the perfect time to address the issue: it was a means to distract from the awkwardness.

"I've noticed you've been sneaking out." Hermione said pointedly.

"What?" Ron asked, laughing shakily. "What do you mean?"

"I saw you yesterday, and you were covered in mud. You were carrying your broom."

Ron bit his lip. "I wasn't doing anything." he said quickly. "I just went to see Hagrid."

"You're a dreadful liar." Hermione said, laughing. "Just tell the truth. I'm sure it can't be that bad."

Ron slipped off the desk and moved to stand by the window. His back was turned to her, but Hermione gave him the time he needed to reply.

"I've been practising my Quidditch." he said quietly, sounding somewhat ashamed. "Now that Wood's gone … I thought I might try out being Keeper. I've been out almost every night, and I think I've got a little bit better."

"Does Harry know?"

"No. I'll have to tell him eventually, though."

"Why?"

"I can't keep it a secret forever, and besides he'll find out-"

"No!" Hermione interrupted. "I meant why are you trying out?"

Ron looked over his shoulder at her. From the look in his eyes, Hermione was sure that he had an answer to her question. He turned back to the window, however, stubbornly remaining silent. She did not question further, sensing that even if she did, she would not obtain a truthful response.

"Are you gonna open your present?" Ron asked after a lengthy break in their conversation. He turned from the window with a slight smile, his secret still lying in his eyes.

"Yeah," Hermione replied, taking the present from the table only when she was sure that she would get no information from him.

Ron watched her tensely as she pulled off the wrapping paper to find a leather-bound book, marked with a golden engraving of an owl that was currently preening itself. Hermione flicked open the pages of parchment to find them all blank.

"I thought you could use it for revision." Ron said quickly, grabbing the book and closing it to show her the owl on its front. "It's a good luck present as well, for when it's time for O. ."

"Thanks." Hermione said, smiling. "I suppose you've already started working, too?"

"What?" Ron said, scowling.

"Well, I started work for the O. over the summer. I assumed everyone would do the same."

Ron laughed. "You can't be serious?"

"Of course I am." Hermione snapped, her expression deathly serious.

Groaning, Ron sat back on one of the desks. "You're gonna make my life hell this year, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Hermione was preparing her defences for an argument as she had done a hundred times before. Ron, however, had opened his mouth to reply, but he had shut it again, sighing.

"I'm not fighting with you on your birthday." he said meekly.

Hermione was about to retort, pressing for an answer to her last question, but, perhaps inspired by Ron, she resisted the urge.

"It was bad enough in third year with your Timeturner." Ron continued, still speaking quietly as he stared into his lap. "I know you don't believe me, but you work too hard. When you get stressed, you make me stressed, and then we fight, and then we fall out, and I don't want that to happen again…"

Ron drew off, seemingly surprised by his own words, blushing a brilliant shade of crimson. Hermione couldn't deny her own surprise; backing away from an argument was certainly uncharacteristic for Ron.

"We should probably head back." Ron grunted after some time. "We don't want to get caught. Come on."

Hermione nodded her agreement, and the two walked back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Once they were stood at the foot of the stairs to the girl's dorm, Hermione turned to face Ron.

"Thanks for tonight." she said, clutching her new book tightly. "And thanks for the present."

"Will we be doing this again?" Ron asked, blurting out his words as soon as Hermione had spoken.

"That was what we agreed." Hermione said, puzzled by his urgency. "When it's your birthday, we'll do the same thing as tonight."

Ron's disappointment was visible.

"Yeah," he said gloomily. "Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." Hermione said, calling after Ron as he plodded up the stairs to the boy's dorms with his hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans.

She began to make her way up to her own dormitory, and she began to consider Ron's behaviour that night. She pondered the reasons he would have decided to play Quidditch. She wondered what had changed him over the summer to make him back down from one of their infamous arguments. And she tried to decide what had caused Ron's sudden despondency before their parting for the evening. This final puzzle was the only one she could offer a plausible explanation for.

Despite the tensions of the night, Hermione had found it a rather enjoyable experience. There was something inexplicably special about the time she had alone with Ron, and surely he could only feel the same way that she did. March was a long way away, and there was a large part of her that wanted to be alone with Ron as she had been tonight before his next birthday. She could only hope that Ron felt the same thing.

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><p><strong>I've love to know what you think, as always. And I've been debating whether or not to keep this story entirely within the canon ie. no unofficial romance, but that seems kind of boring. I don't know! Let me know what you think.<strong>


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